I speed through the astral in a silent streak, idly playing around with some iron dust as the lack of wind resistance and immense speed cause me to blast past dozens of beautiful and strange monsters and spirits in the blink of an eye.
Yet even as I do so, I see something so vast and so beautiful that I can’t help but stare as I approach. My immense speed meaning nothing to their gargantuan forms.
Peeking over a bloom that could dwarf a housing complex that could serve thousands, I see the bells of a dozen or so immense jellyfish. As I approach, I begin to slowly see more.
Their bells are a dark and deep purple with hues of red dotted by a scattering of blue and green. Draped over the bell is a veil formed from clear, lacy fronds that drift in the astral expanse. Dragged behind the immense jellyfish is a moving expanse of clear tendrils that seemed to have captured the stars themselves.
Looking upon the group of jellyfish, I can’t help but cry out in joy; it’s like I’ve seen my own personal living universe unfold before me.
As jellyfish, the lack of water pressure from the astral expanse must have caused their size to balloon over the millenia, and the colorful environment of the astral might mean that being an immense sea of beautiful color would blend in rather than stand out.
It's so wonderful to see the artwork of nature, the joys and wonders it creates for all to enjoy.
As I see the full group, I continue to speed through the Astral, but as I pass by them, they begin to approach, with surprising speed for something so large. More than I could manage on short notice, since I rely on the lack of air resistance to slowly build up speed.
As they come closer and I begin to slow myself down with an application of my now rather impressive reserves of Freedom, I see that each of them is around the size of an old world skyscraper. Although huddled in the middle, I see a few smaller ones that might only be the size of a single-family home.
Eventually, when they reach close enough that their bells cover the astral expanse, one of the larger ones emerges from the group, and the series of lacy fronds that covered their bell previously, separate into two groups of four fronds and begin to move in a complex pattern.
At first, I am confused, but soon enough, I get an instinctual grasp of what seems to be some sort of sign language. I didn’t see any word that felt like a repeat, but with my understanding of the fundamentals, I got a feeling that four fronds that move in one direction before whirling back might be the right thing to say to get them to repeat what seemed to be some kind of greeting.
Turning around, I take out a copy of my hardened light hair structures that I previously used as a jury-rigged laser. I then take it in and out of the duplicating bag three times to get eight hardened light structures.
Then, by moving them while they float in the air, I slowly say back to the patient leading jellyfish, [-Can you repeat/redo that-] [-?-]
As I examine them for their response, they strangely enough seem to be slightly surprised before they make a slow, sweeping gesture that I now understand means [-Yes, I may-]
There is a small pause in their sweeping gestures. Then I feel a slight pinprick from nowhere, before they continue and sign [-I am Star Spirit of the Swirling Stars Bloom, and I ask why-] [-She Who Breaks Chains-] [-Wanders the area-]
Curious as to why or how they used that title, when I’ve only heard it from the Dual Tribe, I slowly piece together the [-why-] symbol and then repeat [-She Who Breaks Chains-]
Star Spirit seems a bit confused, but then signs to me. [-I saw past the veil, and I understood that using the title was a sign or respect-] [-Was it not-] [-?-]
After they say this, their hand tendrils that they’ve been using to sign sweep their bell as if they were wiping away detritus. But their bell is spotless, and the gesture stinks of nervousness. I internally groan, dissatisfied by how often people seem more inclined to suck up to me than to actually speak to me nowadays.
I sign back [-no-], and I see that Star Spirit is a bit confused, but I don’t have a good enough grasp of the language to eloquently describe my emotions regarding that title.
Hell I can barely understand what I feel about it. I am proud of what I did to achieve the title, I'm not exactly going to denounce my participation in freeing the population of a village from slavery at the hands of a cruel spirit.
But it makes me feel queasy, I don't like the fact that this title separates me from others. It firmly places me above everyone else. The title creates the illusion that no one else could have saved those people. I just did my best, but now the thing I am most proud of has been turned into something that makes me feel alien, strange, unlike everyone else.
I sigh and return to the conversation.
In a halting manner, by slowly moving the shining, hardened light, I clumsily sign [-I seek/search adventure and new/recent interesting things-]
Slowly, they sign back. [-If that is what you wish, perhaps you may want to visit the dungeon we just left-]
After they say this, Star Spirit rambles about some sort of spread, and a few others chime in behind them to say that the spread is decent. With low amounts of danger, unless you’re a fool, and great rewards.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
But the swirl of what seem to be foreign words and their native sign language make their signs hell on earth to parse. Understanding the sign language is like trying to pat my head and rub my tummy at the same time, and adding another language makes it feel like I'm trying to do a choreographed dance while rubbing my tummy, patting my head, and dictating a memoir.
My head turns from side to side, my mind clouded by immense confusion. I don’t exactly understand how a fruit or salad spread can have great rewards, and I’m unsure why or how a prison houses a spread that gives great rewards. But I’ve been flying through the astral at speeds that would boggle the minds of most for what feels like days.
The last solid object that wasn’t fiercely guarded by a spirit or a rock was Mnesikles’s design. The astral is mostly empty, and any interesting element would be a balm to my bored soul.
Clumsily, I use my hardened light structures to sign [-Can I have-] [-directions-] [-to dungeon-] [-?-]
After that, Star Spirit gives a surprisingly mundane set of directions, gesturing towards its direction and giving a workaround for any spirits that might be in the way.
Seeing this, I nod and begin to head that way, but as I do so, I remember one of my weirder experiments, and instead, I quickly sign to them [-wait-]
I pull out my design for an experimental wand that looks more like a ineffective oar than a wand. My thought for its design was that since runes get stronger the larger they are, I should massively increase the size of the wands tip so I could place massive attack runes.
But the large tip made it incredibly unbalanced; any errant swing made it nearly rocket out of my hands, and worse, whenever I was on the frozen ground of my planet, it nearly instantly fell out of my hands. While gravity is rare here in the astral, the more powerful places, and spirits can enforce it, disregarding small and petty things like physics and common sense.
I could have made the tip smaller, but at that point, the increase in effectiveness would have been quite small. So instead, I extended the handle. At that point, since I had such a massive flat surface at the end of a staff, I decided to give up and sharpen its point to turn it into a somewhat strange, poorly formed oar spear with an incredibly large tip. All that work and effort gone down the drain for a worthless and unwieldy weapon.
But considering the fact that most of the Swirling Stars could envelope a small skyscraper, that won’t be a problem for them. Hell, for most, the wand would be too small to be their toothpick. But the smaller ones can probably use it.
The larger one, Star Spirit, pauses, and while he does so, I form a tube of iron dust, melt it, cut the craggly and messy tube into a better, more comfortable shape by using my hot hands spell to precisely cut off the edges. I then create a rough spear shape around three hands large and melt it into shape layer by layer, acting like my own personal replicator. Smiling I raise the oar, spear, wand thing into the air with triumph, but as I do so a frown invades my pleasant expression.
I'm not exactly comfortable with offering what is presumably a child a dangerous weapon, even if it could save their lives. It would be like handing a child a wilderness survival gun while they hike. But making a weapon that is properly sized for the adults would be absurd. So what would be a good rune to give for protection? Perhaps the oar spear wand thingy, can put the child in stasis if they press a button so the others can save them?
Wait no, I gave a stasis rune for protection last time. I'm not a hack; I won't give someone else a weirdly shaped copy of my last gift. But now that I think about it, a stasis rune would be a pretty good weapon to give the child. If they miss or point it at the adults like it is a toy, they won't murder them. Additionally, stopping someone mid-battle could be quite useful, especially with the extreme amount of time they'll be gone. It could both take opponents out of the fight, and in an emergency save someone else in the Swirling Stars.
Satisfied with my new enchantment design, I carve a massive stasis rune on one side of the panel with a very small target rune on the dull tip, and the standard series of storage, emotional absosrption, and energy transer runes on the other large surface to extend the tools life span.
Along the handle of the oar wand, I carve with a finger a connected array of small durability and healing runes. Finally, I carve two large buttons, one near the head of the staff and one near the bottom. Then connect the storage array to the regeneration and durability function, then to the buttons, which connect to the status rune, and then to the targeting rune.
Satisfied with a fairly good rush job, I look up, and I am surprised to see the Swirling Stars crowd around me looking intently at the oar wand.
Drifting backwards with a touch of Freedom I leave behind the oar wand and sign, [-This is weapon-] [-When press this button-] [-It stop those you point at-] [-Make them hard to damage/hurt/embarass-] [-They can do nothing-] [-In order to repeat/restart stop after you use-] [-have emotions near weapon-]
Looking at their reactions, they are first a bit puzzled before they piece together the meaning of my broken words and pass the spear quite quickly across the entire group. Eventually, after some handling, it is gently passed along to the smallest jellyfish, a runt barely larger than a studio apartment.
I see many signs being passed along the group at extreme speeds, far surpassing the slow patient speed Star Spirit showed me, and I can only understand impressions of excitement.
Eventually, seeing that I have nothing more to say, they slowly begin to gather up and leave. One of them signs [-We will remember you-] as they leave, but the rest spiral quickly into the depths of the astral.
But as they all begin to speed up and move at an alarming speed, Star Spirit lags behind. Looking nervous their bell swivels from side to side before they hesitantly sign to me [-You seem like the good sort, watch out for the ants alright, their wars turn even more strange and warped than usual.-]
I surprised attempt to get more information, but Star Spirit speeds up, and the speed of the enormous pod leaves me behind, unable to build up such a large amount of speed quickly.
And soon the immense beauty of their star-studded furls and enormous dark bells disappear behind a spirit, and I can no longer see them.
Dejected I try to piece together what Star Spirit meant with his warning. But without any other information, I can only keep going, unable to make any conclusion or decision about it. Confused but unable to do much of anything about my confusion, I begin to head to the dungeon they spoke of.
—
After getting a wee bit lost and eventually finding my way by using a spirit shaped like a giant ball as a compass, I eventually find myself in front of the dungeon the Swirling Stars Bloom talked about.
It’s a door.
It’s an ordinary wooden door that leads to nowhere that floats in the astral unremarkably.
I am both slightly stunned and slightly regretful that I took the time to help the jellyfish out. Now I understand why they were signing nonsense, it was because all they had in their heads was nonsense. Just sending me off on an idiotic goosechase for no reason.
Exasperated, I swim over to the door, grab the handle, and try to wrench it open. But no matter how hard I pull, the door stays shut. Frustrated, I keep trying to open it when suddenly a green light blinks on in the corner of my eye, and like a studdered frame in a movie, I suddenly find myself in a cave?
Looking around, I find myself in what looks to be a natural cave with a winding passage forward, the only oddity being what looks to be some sort of sign posted on the side wall.
It says, "Welcome, Stalwart Adventurers, to the Teleporting Dungeon! Brave this dungeons many dangers and you will be rewarded with magic items and gold beyond your wildest dreams. You may leave at any time, but cowards never get far here! Dive Deep and Grasp the Stars!
Hmm, if I can leave at any time?
Turning around, I swiftly open the door and find myself back in front of the previously ordinary enough door.
Reevaluating my circumstances I mumble to myself, “So a dungeon is a place where you do dangerous things and get rewarded with gold and magical items? Why? Who made this dungeon, and why does it have a name?”
As I ponder this I wonder about who fell to the dangers of the dungeon. What were there names, why did they brave the dangers, why did they have to die. A corner of my enhanced sadness peeks into my mind, threatening to overwhelm me with endless tears for those who have fallen, but I calm down and begin to examine the door itself.
Looking at it with less frustration, disappointment in mind, I can see that it isn’t quite as ordinary as I thought it was. In its top right corner, there are two tinted pieces of glass, one green, and one red. Currently, the green one dimly shines.
Hmm, presumably this is some sort of system to determine if someone is inside already, like the occupied signal on the doorhandle of an outdoor toilet.
Overwhelmed with disgust at the thought of public outdoor toilets, and their designs, which were surely made in some dark pit, while their inventor cackled in dark delight. I am suddenly very glad that I haven’t had to poop this entire time. Even if it cuts out some reading time.
Well, disregarding public toilets, this dungeon doesn’t have much for me. Perhaps its magical items could be useful, but I can make a lot of varied and powerful magical items in the time it takes most people to shit. Gosh, darn it why is my mind stuck on poop.
Ugh, regardless, magical items aren’t as appealing to me as they are to most, although I could still use them for stealing ideas for magical ite-. Wait, no, I can use them as inspiration for some new, original magical items.
The gold might be useful just for the sake of having another metal to play around with. But if these truly are death-defying dangers, it isn’t worth it to risk death for a magic item I can probably make myself and for some gold I don’t really need.
Instead, the far more intriguing and important quality of this dungeon is its teleportation. Merely opening the door transported me to somewhere entirely different, and if I can categorize and understand it, perhaps I can attempt to replicate it or its circumstances.
After all, I’m not exactly going to get home by sitting on my ass or being given a conventional free way out. I need to be proactive, even if it feels nice to pretend someone is going to save me for no effort. So in order to accomplish my goals I need to understand how returning home would even work.
So let’s figure out the Who, What, When, Where, and Why of this dungeon.